Darker Tides
by Raven Dunbar
Summary: Pirate Captain Arthur Kirkland kidnaps one Matthew Williams in an act of Vengence against his enemy, Admiral Francis Bonnefoy of the French Navy. Matthew is Francis's only living family member and heir. Yaoi, UKCan, USCan.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello all! I come bearing a new Fanfiction! XD ... I am really sorry I haven;t been working on the other ones! I will get around to it eventually though!... In the meantime, I was inspired to write this. I've come across a few Pirate!EnglandXCanada Fanfics, and they were enjoyable to read... but I wanted to do something different. I'm a little tired of seeing Canada depicted as a Damsel in Distress, and wanted to write him having a little more fight in him! I'm a sucker for Pirate!England with Canada though, so I came up with this little thing (because the first chapter alone being 8 pages long is really little, right? XD ) ... Anyway, this is very much AU ... and it seems that some USCan has snuck into it ... and now I'm kind of debating on who should have the Happy Ending ... USCan, or UKCan? It's so hard to choose, because I made Alfred pretty sweet in this (maybe too sweet. You guys can be the judge) ... It will definitely have UKCan though (since that's the main pairing for this story, regardless). Anyway, since it's AU, I do not refer to them as Countries, and use only their human names. Even so, I hope you will enjoy this story! I hope to continue writing more soon!

P.S. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any mistakes!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, or any characters associated with it!

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><p>Darker Tides<p>

By Raven Dunbar

Drab grey clouds hovered on the horizon of the Atlantic ocean as it's waves crested and broke against the sandy shore. The rainy season had returned to the tropics, as it did every year, making it's acquaintance once more with the coastal ports of the Caribbean. A lone figured moved along the shore, pausing at a rock outcrop to look out beyond the sheltered bay. Looking to the south, just beyond the tide line, a French naval fleet floated silently docked, waiting patiently to be sent out to sea once more. An easterly wind picked up, bringing in a light pray of rain as the figure turned away from the water and headed back inland once again, towards a large manor that stuck out somewhat like a sore thumb against the sheer rocky cliffs of the inlet. Passing a couple of men who were headed down towards the shore with a small rowing boat and some crab traps, the figure hailed them in a friendly manner.

"Good day, Gentlemen! Off to set your crab traps this afternoon?"

"Ahoy, Master Williams. Aye, a storm's a brewing on the horizon. No better time than the present to get these traps out there. Lord knows we wouldn't want to get caught out on the water when it comes to pay a visit."

" Ah, yes. It's probably for the best then. Good luck, and be safe!"

"Thank you kindly, young sir. Enjoy your afternoon!"

Master Matthew Williams was the nephew and only heir to the estate of one Lord Francis Bonnefoy, a French Admiral who governed over the small town situated in the quiet Caribbean inlet. Matthew was born to Francis's elder sister and an English officer who had been serving in the British Army in what was known as Upper Canada. When Matthew was still very small, his Father and Mother were killed in a land dispute, leaving him in the care of his only surviving relative which just so happened to be Lord Bonnefoy. Lord Bonnefoy had no legitimate heir of his own and as such, upon the adoption of his nephew, Matthew became the one who would eventually inherit his estate and the title of Governor. Despite his high status in society, however, Matthew was a kind young man who preferred to think of himself as equal to everyone, despite their class. He was not one to look down upon others. This sometimes bothered Francis, because he believed that acknowledging one's status was important, but as Matthew grew and continued to be the kind person that he was, Francis accepted it, and was even somewhat proud of his young nephew, who was proving to be more noble than any of the nobility Francis had ever known.

As Matthew parted from the two fisherman, he continued towards the manner for a few more yards but came to a stop before he reached the large building. Looking thoughtful for a moment, he shifted his position and instead, turned to his left, following a dirt road that lead away from the manor. His short journey brought him to a large, weather worn wooden workshop. From the roof, two or three chimney stacks protruded, billowing thick puffs of grey-blue smoke. From within the building, the sound of iron crashing against steel echoed through the warm, moist air. Pausing in front of the large, iron hinged doors, a smile grew across the young man's features. Leaning forward, he carefully open the door on the left, and peered inside the shop. Calling out over the sounds of the tools and the steaming, broiling furnaces, he cast a searching glance around the Blacksmith's workshop.

"Hello? Alfred? Are you in here?"

For a moment there was no response, so Matthew called out over the din again, this time a little louder, and received a reply.

"Hey, Mattie! Yeah, I'm right over here."

A second later, and young man, around the same age as Matthew, stepped out from behind a large central support beam. He was wearing a pair of simple bronze goggles that he pushed up on his forehead, causing his golden blonde hair to stick up at random angles. Laughing, Matthew stepped inside the workshop and made his way over to where the other young man, Alfred, stood.

"Ah, hard at work again, as usual, I see … what are you working on today?"

As Matthew tried to get a look at Alfred's current project, the young blacksmith set his hammer down on the anvil next to the piece of steel that he'd been working on.

"Nothing too exciting today. Just repairing some musket barrels for some of the soldiers that are passing through. I was kind of hoping to get some target practice in today … but you know how it goes. I'm not going to make any money shooting targets, hahaha."

Matthew nodded knowingly and smiled at the cheerful young blacksmith.

"Ah, yes … I was hoping to get some fencing practice in today myself, but Francis is entertaining some of the Captains from the Naval fleet docked in the bay. They're here on important business apparently."

Alfred cocked his head slightly and then glanced towards the door.

"I noticed that some of those ships are flying British flags … I was wondering what they were doing here. I mean, your Uncle doesn't really take too kindly to the British … so what's the deal? Do you know anything?"

Matthew had changed his position and was turning over some of Alfred's tools as if examining them. He looked up from what he was doing with an expression of mild concern as Alfred looked at him expectantly.

"I'm afraid I don't know too much… but from what I've gathered, there is a notorious Pirate crew that has been spotted sailing the waters not too far from here. Apparently the British Navy is after them and they've come to seek aid from Francis. I'm not entirely sure why they would do that. It doesn't make much sense to me at all."

Alfred looked both puzzled and concerned as Matthew shared his very minimal knowledge on the subject.

"That would explain why I have so many muskets, blades and bayonets to repair then… but it kind of makes you wonder. Do the Brits think that this crew is going to come here or something? I can't really see what they'd want from a tiny little town like this one. I mean, you and your uncle are the only ones who any real wealth here. Everyone else here are just workers and fisherman, and a few French soldiers… You'll be meeting with them as well, won't you?"

Matthew simply nodded his head.

" Well then, you'll have to tell me what you find out! You know I love a little bit of juicy gossip now and again, hahaha. But for now, I better get back to work! Thanks for stopping by!"

Pulling his goggles back down over his eyes, Alfred grinned at Matthew and turned back to his work.

"Yes, of course … as long as you can keep that big mouth of yours shut. I'll see you later, Alfred!"

Matthew grinned at his friend as he took his leave. Alfred returned the look with an expression of indignation.

"Hey! I may have a big mouth, but at least I'm not a pansy little rich boy like you!"

Matthew just laughed and waved as he exited the Workshop and made his way back to his Uncle's manor to sit in on the meeting with the British Navy Captains. The afternoon wore on as Lord Bonnefoy and Matthew, as well as some of Francis's own soldiers met with the Captains of the British Naval Fleet that was currently docked out in the small bay. The clouds had taken on a darker shade of grey and the winds were picking up, blowing much more fiercely. Matthew found himself growing bored as the older men conversed and shared in some afternoon tea. Francis decided to partake in the British tradition if only to make his guests feel more at home despite the uneasiness that could be felt between the two groups. The young blonde was staring out a window with a blank expression. That is until the men finally started to discuss the reason that they were actually there. Perking up a little, Matthew turned his attention to the group, listening intently.

"It has come to our attention that the vessel known as the Queen's Blight has been spotted offshore in a town not too far from this very inlet," started an elderly looking man, who was the commander of the fleet. "We have been trying to track down this vessel for sometime now, after a brutal attack by her crew occurred in Port Royal. This particular crew has been quite a nuisance, and the King has asked us to bring justice to these waters. Not only are these Pirate's causing a great deal of trouble, their Captain is a wanted criminal and must be captured at all costs, to be punished for his crimes against his king and Country. We're aware of the fact that your Lordship has been well acquainted with this particular pirate."

The Commander was watching Francis carefully as the Frenchman idly stirred the contents of his tea cup with a delicate silver spoon. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then gave the commander a knowing smile.

"Ah yes, Of Course. You are speaking of Monsieur Kirkland I assume? 'E is not much of a Pirate from my recollection. Had 'e been, I would not 'ave defeated and captured 'im so easily. Ah, but that was many years ago. I 'ad know idea that 'e 'ad returned to the seas. Even so, what does any of this 'ave to do with me? I do not see why I should 'elp you to recapture 'im." Francis eyed the Commander in a bored fashion, his French accent dripping with condescension. The Commander returned the look with an expression of annoyance.

"Perhaps he didn't seem like much of a problem back then, but as you have said, that was a long time ago. He has become quite skilled since those times, and have you ever considered that perhaps it was merely a stroke of luck that you were able to defeat him that time? Forgive me, Lord Bonnefoy, but you do not know what he is truly capable of. He has committed many unforgivable crimes, and he must be brought to justice!" The Commander paused for a moment. Matthew was watching him carefully, finding himself growing far more curious about this pirate that his uncle had encountered, this Captain Kirkland. The Commander's eyes narrowed as Francis continued to look bored.

"Not only that, good sir, but we have also received news that the reason that Kirkland and his crew of brigands are in this area is because he has caught word that you are now residing here, and he is looking to revenge himself upon you. I have no idea what went on between the two of you when you defeated him, but he seems to have a vendetta against you. Now, normally, we would not care that his is after you. It's up to your own country and government to take care of that. However, since we too are after him, we saw this as an opportunity to finally capture him, and his crew, and see that they are, every last one of them, hanged."

Francis was quiet for a moment. Matthew looked at him expectantly, as did the British Commander. Both were hoping to hear what they wanted to hear. Matthew had been aching for a little bit of action after all. He'd gone through military training under his uncle, and was wanting to put his skills to the test. He was sure that Alfred would want in on the action as well. Alfred was a born fighter after all. Matthew on the other hand, wanted to put his tactical skills to use. Finally Francis spoke, and he was laughing in a somewhat pompous manner as he did so

"Hohoho, that is ridiculous. Even if 'e really did want to avenge 'imself, there is no way 'e would ever succeed. 'Owever, since you 'ave come 'ere in 'opes of capturing 'im, I will allow your men to stay in the town, and I will lend you a few of my men, but that is all that I will do for you, and as soon as you 'ave captured Monsieur Kirkland and 'is crew, you will leave immediately!"

The Commander did not seem pleased with this response, but he would not argue any further. It was quite obvious to him that Francis was not taking it very seriously and did not seem like he was ever going to. As such, he accepted Lord Bonnefoy's terms, and then discussion began about the amount of men that Francis would lend them. It was a small number, only a dozen. And neither Matthew or Alfred made the list. Having lost faith in the meeting, Matthew excused himself and made his way back to Alfred's workshop to tell him the news.

"Seriously? He's only lending them 12 men? Not to offend, but your Uncle should really rethink this! I've heard stories about The Queen's Blight and her crew. When I was delivering that Iron Gate to the Church, two cities north, one of the smith's there was telling me that he heard that the next town over was ransacked by the crew on that vessel, and that the Captain killed the Governor's wife and son right in front of him. He apparently gutted them like pigs… and that's just one of the stories I've heard in my travels." Alfred looked very serious as he related his tales to Matthew. The young noble shook his head, bewildered.

"And to think, my Uncle had captured him once … and the Commander of the British Fleet said that he'd heard that This Dread Pirate Kirkland was out for revenge on my uncle now. I wish he would take the Commander's warning more seriously." The two young men then spent the rest of the early evening chatting and sharing in a drink of Ale that Alfred had on tap at the back of his shop. As the dark clouds outside turned the sky to black, and the night crept in under a curtain of rain, Matthew decided it was time to return to the Manor. As he walked towards the door still chatting with Alfred, the Blacksmith paused suddenly, and his bright blue eyes went wide for a moment.

"Wait! Just one second… I almost forgot again!" He quickly turned away from Matthew and head further back into his shop. Dipping out of sight for a moment, Matthew could hear him rummaging around. When Alfred came into sight again, he was holding something in his hand. As he approached the young noble, he held the object out. It was a dagger. The folded steel blade was about ten inches long, and the handle was almost the same length, and wrapped in leather. It was a rather plain looking weapon except that upon the blade, something was carved in cuneiform. For all his education, Matthew had no clue how to read cuneiform and as such could not make out what it said. He looked at the weapon and then up at Alfred, confusion showing on his face. The blacksmith on the other hand was grinning from ear to ear.

"W-what is it?" Matthew asked as he looked back at the blade once more.

"It's a dagger, you idiot! What else does it look like?" replied Alfred in a sarcastic, joking manner.

"Well, I know it's a dagger! … But what is it for? And what does it say?"

Alfred had to refrain from making another sarcastic comment. Grabbing Matthew's hands with one of his own, he placed the dagger across the young noble's palms.

"It's for you … I've been working on this for a while. That's cuneiform… but I can't tell you what it says … not yet anyway! Hahaha!" Matthew couldn't help but notice that his boisterous friend seemed to be a little pink in the cheeks suddenly. At least from what he could see of his face, which was mostly covered in soot.

"But … why did you make it for me?"

"Well… you know … you're my best friend … and I know you like daggers. Just thought you needed something new for your collection. I wasn't going to say anything, but I'm working on a matching sabre to go with it. I was going to give them to you at the same time, but considering that, you know, you might get attacked by pirates in the middle of the night now because your Uncle is an idiot… er… no offence … I thought a little extra protection would be useful, hahaha!"

Turning the dagger over in his hand, Matthew inspected the masterfully crafted weapon. He smiled brightly and looked back up at his friend who was laughing like an idiot to cover up any sort of awkward feelings he might have been feeling.

"Thank you, Alfred! It's beautiful … but I don't think we will get attacked by any pirates in the night. I'm sure the navy will bring them to a halt."

Leaning forward, Matthew pulled his friend into a warm hug.

"You're a dear friend indeed, Alfred. You should be commended for that alone. I could not ask for a better friend!"

Trying to cover up his bashfulness, Alfred just continued to laugh. "And you're just a giant sap. Don't get all mushy on me now."

Both young men looked at each other quietly in a moment of unspoken communication and then burst out laughing. Finally, Matthew excused himself as he bade Alfred a good night and headed back to the manor.

Once in his room, Matthew, now dressed in his night clothes, stared out his bedroom window. The winds had come and gone, but the rain was still pouring from the sky, pelting the earth like tiny bullets. Along the shore, Matthew could see fires burning as the British soldiers set up their makeshift camps just above the high tide line. The sky was so thick with clouds and sleeting rain that one could not make out the horizon as the darkness seemed to meld together. As the young noble crawled into his bed, he was suddenly filled with a sense of foreboding. Taking the dagger that Alfred had gifted him with, he tucked it away under his night clothes with a strap that he wore on his leg. He had learned long ago that it was always important to carry some means of defence on his person, and daggers were relatively easy to hide.

A long the horizon a silhouette began to emerge from the darkness, moving like a shadow creature across the water. The rain continued to beat down from the sky.

to be continued ...

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><p>AN: So what do you guys think? Should I keep going? Let me know! ^_^


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter two! Yay! ... Not quite as long as the first chapter, but a little more action packed! The third chapter is when we get to meet Captain Kirkland! Funtimes! ... So yeah, so far this is kind of a USCan Fic, but I promise you will get your MapleTea Fixin's as well! Yay! ... Again, unbeta'd... so there are bound to be mistakes!

Disclaimer: I own nothing! XD;;

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

Matthew was having difficulties sleeping, and was tossing and turning, tangling in his sheets. Sitting bolt up right as if startled from a dream, he gazed around his bedroom, searching the darkness for some unknown being faded into the shadows. As he realized that there was in fact nobody else in his room, the young man gave his head a shake.

"What a strange dream… I don't even know what was going on… so strange," he muttered to himself, as he blinked his eyes, still trying to adjust to the darkness around him. He sat quietly for a moment or two, the only sound he could hear was that of the now steady rain beating down upon the roof top. He could hear nothing more than that and his own breathing. Just as he nestled back into his bed and was a bout to pull the sheet back up over himself, that was when everything suddenly turned to chaos. The sound of gun fire rent the silence of the night. In an instant, Matthew sprung from his bed and quickly pulled on a pair a tanned leather breeches and his boots, but did not bother to change from the cotton tunic he wore to bed. Double checking to make sure he had the dagger Alfred had given him, he quickly grabbed the military grade pistol and rapier he'd acquired from his days of training with the French Navy. Outside, the sounds of people shouting and screaming and the clashing of steel and gunfire echoed through the night air. Matthew made his way down the stairs, and came to the foyer where his uncle, fully dressed in his Admiral's attire, was issuing orders to the servants and the staff of the house hold. Hearing Matthew's footsteps on the marble flooring, Francis turned to face him.

"Mathieu! I am going to go and help the others outside. Please take care of everyone here. Make sure they are safe. Take them down to the wine cellars!"

Before the young noble could protest against his uncle's word, the Man, accompanied by a few soldiers, dashed outside to join into the fray. Matthew blinked and then shook his head slightly, before turning his attention to the nearest servant. The portly maid, who was normal the picture of happiness, was crying like a lost child. Concerned about what was going on, Matthew placed his hands on the woman's shoulders and gave her a light shake, trying to get her attention.

"Wha-What is going on? Please tell me! Are … are we being attacked by Pirates? Please, ma'am, you must tell me!"

All the woman could do was let out a loud wail as she threw her arms around Matthew's shoulders and continued to weep piteously. An older male servant stepped forward, and gave his head a slight bow towards Matthew before addressing the issue at hand.

"Do forgive her, young sir. Her second eldest son was down on the beaches when the Pirates swarmed the guards down there. Came out of the shadows, they did, like creatures of the night. A messenger was sent up here to give us warning, and now Lord Francis, god bless him, he's gone to rally some more men to fight. We really should get down to the cellar's now, young master, before the Pirates make there way up here."

Resigned to his fate to play guardian for the time being, Matthew nodded his head, and began to usher the small group of servants down to the wine cellar's, doing his best to comfort them as he did so. Once everyone was safely hidden, at least for now, Matthew found himself pacing the cellar, worrying about the villagers and the men fighting, and his uncle as well, and most importantly, Alfred. He had no doubt that the vivacious young blacksmith must have joined into the fray. Reaching down, Matthew touched the dagger that was strapped t his leg, hidden inside his boot, and furrowed his brow. Not wanting to miss out on any of the action, he made a few more paces before turning to the elder man who had addressed him earlier. Pressing his pistol and some ammunition into the man's hand, he gave him a smile and then looked towards the cellar door.

"I am going to go outside and see what's happening. Use this pistol to protect everyone if a Pirate should sneak by me and make his way here. Be safe!"

The elderly servant looked concerned but nodded his head, understanding Matthew's need to get involved in whatever was happening outside. He was a young man after all, full of fight and vigor.

"God bless, Master Williams! Be Safe!"

Within moments, the young man disappeared from the wine cellar and made his way upstairs and outside. The Mansion itself sat at the top of a slowly declining slope, so as Matthew stepped from the veranda and out onto the lawn, he could see fire blazing in every direction down in the village and on the beaches. Immediately, his gaze fell upon the Alfred's workshop, and he felt his heart skip a beat or two as he noticed it set ablaze like many of the other shops and buildings. A sudden jolt of worry washed over himself, and before he could think about it, he was running towards the little shop

"They couldn't have gotten to him with out him noticing … there's no way! Oh, Alfred! Please be safe." Matthew thought to himself as he sprinted down the old, dirt road.

Although Matthew had received Naval training, and Alfred had once been an officer in British-American Army before coming to the Caribbean to work, both young men had seen very little in the way of real battle, and as such, although highly trained, both lacked experience. Matthew was more aware of this than Alfred had ever been, and that is why he worried for his friend.

As he came closer to the village, he could see people fleeing and fighting in all directions. The Pirates themselves were quite easy to distinguish from the British and French soldiers, and the villagers. Their clothes were ratty, and often mismatched, and they were covered in filth. They wore an assortment of bandanas and headbands, and jewellery; gold bangles and silver hoops and shining stones, that glittered in the firelight. Matthew found himself being drawn away from Alfred's shop when he saw two pirates trying to force a young woman away from her small brother so that they could have they're way with her, and possibly kidnap or kill the boy. Disgusted, Matthew moved forward like a silent shadow, and pressed the point of his rapier against one of the offender's backs. The man stood stalk still as the young lord's voice crept quietly and deadly through the night air.

"Unhand her at once, or I'll skewer you where you stand, you brigand." The second pirate, who had been dealing with the young boy, looked up from his charge and released him as he reached for the battered old sword tucked away in his belt.

"Well, well, well… look wot we gots 'ere, Duffy, old lad. Looks like one o' those French pretty boys come out to play wif the big boys!"

Matthew's eyes narrowed as he threatened his current hostage further, daring the other pirate to move a step forward. However, while he was focusing on the one who was inching towards him, the one called Duffy, moved swiftly. Shoving the girl to the ground, he stepped away and turned quickly, drawing his own weapons, two rusted daggers. The girl rushed to her brother, and while the two pirates were distracted by Matthew, she grabbed her brother and they made their escape.

Duffy grinned. It was not a pretty sight. His mouth was full of rotten and missing teeth.

"Aye, he do be a purty one, don't he, Karney, me buckoe? S'posin' we takes him back to Cap'n, hm. Looks an awful like that old frog face that the Cap'n be after, doncha think.?"

"Nah, Duff… this 'uns too young to be old froggy face Francis. Could be related to him though. What do you say we give him a what for?"

"Sounds good to me, Cap'n probably couldn't make much use of him anyway."

Matthew swallowed slightly as the two pirates were suddenly focused on him. Before he could say anything further, the two scabby looking men fell upon him with their weapons raised. Startled, Matthew was barely able to dodge the onslaught, but once the heat of battle lit a fire inside of him, his skills came to the forefront. As Karney lunged at his with his sword, he feigned left and neatly sidestepped the attack. In the same instance, Duffy had moved behind him and was about to plunge a dagger into his right shoulder, but Matthew, quick and agile on his feet, evaded the attack, and managed to disarm the not so bright pirate with a stealthy move. Enraged by this, the pirate charged forward as if to throttle the young man with his bare hands. At the same time, Karney was trying an attack from behind again and once more, using his speed, Matthew evaded the attack. Duffy was unable to stop his charge however, and suddenly found himself impaled upon his comrades blade. With a surprised look and a choking gurgle, the Pirate fell to the ground in a lifeless heap, gripping the sword that stuck through him. Karney sent up a loud wail the rent the air, and cursed Duffy for getting in the way, and for disarming him. As he struggled to free the sword from his comrade death grip, he began to panic. Matthew had actually never killed a man, but he had seen men killed. He looked down at the lifeless corpse of Duffy, and the panicking form of Karney, and shook his head. He would not attack an unarmed man, pirate or not, and instead moved past the pitiful man, heading back towards Alfred's workshop. As he ran, he could hear Karney yelling a curse at him and threatening to come after him. Matthew simply ignored him.

As he came to the burning smithy, Matthew could feel his heart beating strongly in his chest. Moving to the burning doors, he gave them a swift kick which sent them crashing inside the building. He winced slightly, and hope beyond hope that his best friend was not in there. He had to check though. Stepping just inside the doorway, he looked around, peering through the billow smoke and flames, and called out.

"Alfred? Are you in here? Oh god, I hope not!"

Matthew coughed and covered his mouth and nose with the front of his sleeping tunic and moved further in, searching. It was sad to see that all of Alfred hard work and inventions were being destroyed, but at least, it didn't seem that the blacksmith himself was anywhere nearby. Matthew was certain he'd escaped, and was hoping feverently that he was still somewhere, alive and breathing, and fighting hard. As he moved out of the burning building, Matthew was met with an unpleasant surprise. It was Karney again, and this time he had four or five other pirates with him. He didn't have much time to count really, because within a moment of seeing them, something from inside the workshop exploded and sent the entire group of them skidding across the dirt road. A piece of heavy shrapnel managed to dislodge and struck the young man on the back of his head. He could see a few of the pirates getting back up before everything went black and he fell unconscious. It would be sometime before Matthew would wake up again, and when he finally did, he found himself bound and gagged, laying on the bottom of a damp, foul-smelling, creaking jail cell.

To be continued!

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><p>AN: Thanks for reading! Hope you're all enjoying it so far!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Okay... chapter 3! Yay! So, I kind of lied last chapter. I said that Arthur would be making his appearence in this chapter ... but he doesn't (aside from being mentioned) ... This Chapter covers Alfred's POV of when the Pirates attacked the Village and stole Matthew away and stuff. In this chapter you discover just how much Alfred cares for Matthew... I'm just writing this as it comes to me... and although I can promise you that it will most definitely have some UKCan in it, I can't promise it will end with UKCan. Either way though, I have a feeling there is going to be a bit of tragedy near the end of this story. I know that this maybe doesn't seem too much like a typical fanfic, and I intend to keep it that way, honestly. Even so, I hope you guys are enjoying it so far! Swashbuckling adventures with some romance are always fun!

I just want to say thank you for all the faves and reviews so far too! You guys are awesome! Thank you again!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination!

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><p>Chapter 3.<p>

When the attack was sprung upon the soldiers who were standing guard on the beach, the sounds had immediately roused Alfred, who had fallen asleep on one of his work benches after a particular busy day of work. He was quick to grab his musket and ammunition, as well as the sword that he'd been working on for Matthew. He had been under the assumption that he would run into his friend during the fight. The night before, after Matthew came to him with the news, Alfred stayed up to finish of the weapon he'd said he'd started for him. He wanted to get it to Matthew before anything happened, but unfortunately he was a bit too late. Alfred was nowhere near his workshop when it had caught fire, having managed to make his way further into the village and joined the British and French soldiers that were fighting there. Only when he'd heard the loud explosion coming from his workshop was it that he'd discovered that it had been burned down and, more importantly, where Matthew had been. As he ran up the dirt road, followed by a few soldiers, he could see his friend's body lying among the bodies of some pirates and the rubble of what was once his smithy. However, before the young Blacksmith could come to his friend's aid, another group of pirate's appeared. Rushing forward, Alfred tried to stop a rather large, heavily tattooed pirate as he picked up the limp form of his best friend. Unfortunately, the other pirates fell upon him before he could reach the man and Matthew. Outnumbered, six to one, Alfred fought like a mad man, but his skill was not with swords. If the pirates had been unarmed, or kept at a distance, he would have been successful. He did however manage to finish two of the ruffians before one winded him with a strong blow to the stomach with a piece of iron piping that came from the mess that was once his workshop. He collapsed to his knees as he watched the remaining pirates begin to retreat. The big one that carried Matthew off was already far ahead of the rest. Francis had just arrived upon the scene as Alfred fell. He was quick to kneel at Alfred's side, asking him what had happened. Panic and rage seemed to burst forth from the younger man as he pointed in the direction that the pirates were retreating, and then struck the ground with his fist

"Matthew! They took Matt! I couldn't get to him in time! He… I think he was injured! We have to go after them!"

He looked at Francis pleading as the French Admiral sprung to his feet. Francis normally didn't take kindly to attitude from the lower class, but he knew that Alfred was right, and immediately turned to the soldiers.

"You 'eard 'im! After them now, men! Get back my dear sweet Mathieu, or I'll have your 'eads!"

The French soldiers saluted smartly, and proceed forward, in pursuit of the pirates. The few British soldiers who had come upon the scene milled about for a moment, until one of their own captains came forward and told them to go and try and slow the pirates down. If they could keep them distracted, the other soldiers could regroup, and make for the pirate's ship to arrest the marauders and their bloodthirsty captain. Alfred cursed to himself as he picked up the sword he'd made for Matthew. Hoisting himself to his feet, he made to move forward to join in the chase, but Francis was quick to stop him.

"Let me go! I need to go help Matt!" Alfred shouted angrily as he struggled against Francis and a British soldier who came to aid the French Noble in restraining the fiery young man.

"You will stay with us, Alfred! You will be of more use to us 'ere. They will get Mathieu back. 'E will be safe with us soon! Oh, but 'e will get an earful for abandoning 'is post! 'E seems quiet and sweet, but that boy is as stubborn and bull 'eaded as they come! I blame 'is English father for that!"

At the comment, one of the English soldiers made a disgruntled sound but was silenced by his captain. All around the village and the beach, the pirates disappeared as quickly as they had come. Francis, Alfred and their group, made their way back to the manor. All the while, Alfred was kept under tabs. Francis did not want him running off just yet. As they discussed the next plan of action, a messenger came running up the road. Out of breath, he took a moment before he relayed his message. During that time the wind seemed to have picked up again.

"Begging your pardons, sirs… but we could not catch up with the pirates. As we reached the shores, there were a great number of them waiting there. Young Master Williams was already taken aboard a row boat and on his way to the ship. We couldn't stop them! We haven't the numbers! You'll have to let them take the boy!"

Francis was surprisingly calm considering the news, but perhaps it was that once he'd heard that they had captured Matthew, he knew they would do something like this. Alfred, on the other hand, was absolutely livid. Mustering all his strength (and he had a lot of it), he managed to wrestle free and escape from those who held him there. Without even looking back, he rushed down the road, running at full speed.

"If you idiots won't even try to get him back, I will!"

As Alfred disappeared from sight, one of the soldiers looked to Francis as if seeking guidance.

"Sir, shall we go after him?"

"Non … let 'im go …" lips pursed, the French Lord turned to the British Captain, " I think I know what Kirkland is playing at now. 'E will use my nephew as bartering material. 'E will ask for a ransom, I am sure of it."

"What will we do then?"

"We will do nothing, for now. We cannot do anything. Mathieu will be fine. I 'ave faith that 'e will survive through this. We must regroup and gather our numbers. Captain, tell your Commander that this one time, we will join forces with your people to bring down these pirates. We just need time. I am sure there are injured villagers and soldiers that will need to be attended to. Tell your Commander to come see me as soon as possible. Go now!"

With that, Francis turned from the group with a flourish and made his way inside his manor, followed by a few of his closest men. Although he was doing a fairly good job of remaining calm and cool on the outside, inside the Frenchman was worrying and panicking. Ever since his nephew had come to him, he had been his world. Like a son that he'd never had, but he knew that this situation had to be approached cautiously, with much thought and strategy. He was not a Navy Admiral for nothing, after all.

As Alfred reached the shore, he noticed that it was completely void of life. The only people left there were already dead. Having lost his own musket in the heat of battle, he picked one up from one of the corpses as he tucked Matthew's sword into his belt. A small fishing boat lay nearby having remained unscathed. Without any other thought in his head but that of getting Matthew back, the young blacksmith pushed the boat into the water and started to row towards the dark silhouette of the pirate ship. The harder he rowed and the further he got from shore, the further the ship itself seemed to get. In his stubborn determination to get his friend back, it took sometime before Alfred realized that it was useless. The winds had caught in the ship's sails, and were spiriting it away faster than he could even try to catch up. As the ship sailed away, disappearing over the horizon, the sun began to rise. The dark clouds in the sky began to turn to red and gold, as the waves crashed against the hull of Alfred's small boat. He cursed again, and then looked down at the sword tucked away in his belt. Feeling as if he'd failed Matthew, he openly wept in frustration. Was Matthew even still alive? When he saw him laying in the rubble, he hadn't moved. When that big, ugly pirate picked him up, he looked as if he were completely lifeless. Alfred cursed once more, and slowly began to row back to shore. Despite feeling over come with a sense of emptiness, Alfred refused to believe that Matthew was dead, and as such, he swore to himself that he would bring him back, one way or another. Even if he had to leave the tiny inlet village, and go with the British soldiers in their pursuit of this so called Dread Captain Kirkland. The Blacksmith's eyes narrowed at the very thought of his name. It was all his fault that his dearest friend… the only person Alfred truly loved, was gone. That pirate and the rest of his crew would pay dearly for even laying a single finger on Matthew. Once Alfred reached the shore, he swore an oath to himself, and to Matthew, that he would rescue him. Renewed with a sense of Determination, Alfred F. Jones made his way back to the village in search of the British Commander to offer his services. After all, who wouldn't want a skilled blacksmith and a man willing to fight with his life aboard their ship? He would not let Francis or anyone stop him either.

To be Continued …

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><p>AN: I hope you guys liked this chapter! ^_^ ... I will try to write more as soon as I can! ... Oh, and just so you know. Francis isn't being a jerk. He's just trying to be smart about things ... because he realizes now that he kind of messed up big time, having not taken the warnings seriously at first!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I give you Chapter four! Written this morning before I went to work! XD;; ... and now Arthur is in it. As well as Gilbert (Prussia) and Antonio (Spain). Antonio will be playing a rather important role in this story eventually ... mwuhahaha.

and just to note a couple of things "Le rat Abittit" means "The Fattest Rat," and Claret is another word describing a deep red, maroon, or wine colour.

I hope you guys will enjoy this chapter! ^_^

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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><p>Chapter 4.<p>

When Matthew realized where he was, he struggled against his bonds. His head was still feeling a bit light as he tried to remember what exactly had happened. He remembered fighting some pirates and then searching for Alfred, but after that everything went blank. Upon remembering Alfred, and being aware of where he was, he looked down at his boot where the dagger had been hidden. He wanted to reach for it, to make sure it was still there, but his hands were tied. Making a disgruntled sound around the filthy bandana that they had tightly gagged him with, he struggled to sit up right. Once he managed to right himself, he leaned against the wall at the back of the cell. It was cold and damp. He began to wonder why he was here, and why they hadn't just killed him outright. He also found himself wondering if his Uncle and Alfred would come looking for him. Had they even survived the attack? He couldn't say, but something deep down told him that they were okay. Alfred and Francis would never fall so easily, especially at the hands of some ragtag, scummy, stupid pirates. Just thinking about his kidnappers made Matthew's blood boil. It was a good thing for them that they were at least smart enough to tie him up, because they would have sorely regretted it if they had left him unrestrained. A noise sounded from the cell next to him, and as Matthew looked towards it thinking someone might be there, he suddenly felt extremely lonely. The only living occupant of the cell was a fat blackish rat that was rummaging around the skeleton of a long forgotten prisoner. Matthew furrowed his brow and made another disgruntled sound and then slumped back against the wall. He tried struggling with his bonds again a few more times, but eventually gave up, seeing that it was a hopeless endeavour. The prisoner galley remained silent for what felt like an eternity. The only sounds were the occasional heavy boot steps on the deck above, and that of the rat, who Matthew had taken to observing and naming "Le rat Abittit," since he had nothing better to do. Boredom and exhaustion were soon taking their toll as the young noble felt himself starting to drift off again. Just as he had closed his eyes, he heard loud food steps and an even louder voice with a thick German accent echoing through the galley. This voice was accompanied by a slightly quieter one that sounded like that of a Spaniard. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to feign sleep, but as he heard his jail cell door unlock, he suddenly felt restless. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he was certain that the two pirates could hear it.

"Aw, look at zat… he iz a sleep. Vould be a shame to vake him, vouldn't you agree, Antonio?" came the voice of the loud German.

"Si, Gilbert, he looks like an angel, doesn't he? But I don't think the Captain cares. Let's get him up."

Despite having a noticeable accent, the Spanish pirate seemed to have a very good grasp on the English language. Something about that had Matthew feeling a bit troubled although he could not say why. It didn't though as he didn't have much time to give it any thought as he was roughly grabbed by the one named Gilbert. As he was pulled to his feet, he opened his eyes. Gilbert, who still had a firm grip on his arm, was a fairly tall man, with pale hair and dangerous looking red eyes. Antonio, the Spaniard, was shorter, with messy brown hair and tanned complexion. Matthew would have even ventured to say he was handsome, if it weren't for the fact that he was a filthy pirate. He looked more friendly than Gilbert as well, but there was something about him that made the young noble extremely uneasy.

"Come on zen, Pretty Boy. Cap'n wants to see you! Move yourself!"  
>With a small knife, Gilbert cut the bindings around Matthew's ankles, and then shoved him forward, out of the cell. The young noble lost his balance for a moment, but with reflexes like a cat, he was able to regain it just as quickly. Now that his feet were free, he had to fight the urge to turn and kick and stomp on the two pirates that were escorting him to the upper decks of the ship. However, he knew that he had to play it smart. Maybe if he could see the Captain, he could discover the fate of his uncle and his best friend.<p>

Antonio seemed to be studying Matthew as they walked. Gilbert on the other hand, was just enjoying man-handling the young man, pushing him around a bit as they went along.

"Are you sure zis is ze one, Antonio?" Gilbert asked of the shorter pirate.

"Si, he looks very much like his uncle. I think that captain will be pleased."

The two pirates fell silent as they came to the main deck, and moved towards the door that lead into the Captain's quarters. All around the deck swarmed a variable beehive of pirates of all shapes, colours and sizes. One thing they all shared in common though, was that they were a murderous, gruesome looking bunch. Matthew tried not to look at them, and instead focused on the wooden deck beneath his feet. He had to start thinking now about how he would get himself out of this mess, but a quick glance around confirmed that there was no land in sight. He'd have to wait until they made landfall again. He knew they had to after all. They were human too, although it was difficult to believe, and they needed fresh water, and food as well.

As the came to a stop in front of the door, Antonio raised his hand and knocked loudly.

"Captain! We have brought the prisoner up for you!"

There was a pause, and what seemed like silence, but the Spanish pirate opened the door anyway. Stepping back, he let Gilbert go through first, who was shoving Matthew in front of him. Matthew was about to turn to look back at the two pirates behind him when Antonio reached forward and removed the gag. Grateful to have that disgusting thing out of his mouth, Matthew almost found himself thanking the pirate, but before he could do anything, a gruff, sarcastic voice but with a well-spoken English accent echoed through the small room.

"Thank you, Gentlemen… now to whom do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Matthew turned his attention to the man sitting at the navigation desk in front of him but did not answer as his eye caught the sight of a rather familiar dagger stabbed into the desk top. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the Captain, who was now standing. The Pirate was dressed rather elaborately. He wore a huge feathered bi-corn hat, and his coat was made of claret velvet, neatly decorated with bluish-black lapels, and gold trim. He wore a cravat which was pinned into place by a shining green emerald brooch. A sabre and a pistol were tucked into the ornate sash and belt that wrapped around his waist, and he wore an eye patch over his right eye, but the left eye shone dangerously, it's colour matching that of the emerald brooch. Messy, sandy blonde hair stuck out from beneath the feather and lace trimmed hat, but there were two other things about the pirate that threw Matthew off. One, he was not a very tall man. He wasn't exactly short, but Matthew could already tell that he, himself, was taller than this man. And two, he had rather … interesting eyebrows. If Matthew had been a simpler man, he probably would have even snickered. He knew though that it was not wise to judge a book by it's cover, and had no doubt that this pirate, this Captain Kirkland, was a very dangerous man. The young noble's eyes fell once again to the dagger, and he gritted his teeth slightly. He hadn't even noticed that the Captain had dismissed Antonio and Gilbert, or that he was staring at him, looking rather peeved.

"You, Boy! Answer when you're being questioned! I would hate to have to slit that pretty little throat of yours just yet so you best be listening up and giving a quick answer when I ask you something."

Matthew blinked and then looked back up at the Captain. His eyes narrowed again as he tried moving his arms, having forgotten that they were still bound. Oh, how he would like to give this man a piece of his mind, but he knew that would not be wise. He couldn't help but be a bit defiant though.

"My name is of no significance… therefore you do not need to know it."

The Captain eyed the young man for a moment, and then a smirk spread across his face and he chuckled quietly. Grabbing the dagger from the desk, he made a show of casually sauntering over to where Matthew stood. He was turning the dagger over in his hand, admiring the craftsmen ship of it.

"My, but this is a lovely little dagger, isn't it? My men found it on you. Of course, we couldn't have an armed prisoner so they brought it to me. It's very lovely indeed… and whomever had it made for you… they must care deeply for you. Perhaps a fair young maiden back in that pitiful little village of yours?…" He then paused for a minute, and before Matthew could do or say anything, he felt the pirate behind him, and the blade of the dagger pressed against his throat.

"Now then, boy… what did I say about not answering me when I ask you something? Your name, now! Or you die by your own blade!"

Matthew knew he was in no position to fight. Had they both been unarmed, he might have tried, but the pirate was armed, and Matthew did not want to take any chances.

"My name is Matthew … Matthew Williams."

The pirate did not move. The blade remained pressed against Matthew's throat.

"Williams, you say? Aye, but that's a strong English name." said Captain Kirkland as he moved to face the young noble, keeping the dagger dangerously close to his throat for a moment, and then using it to brush the young man's wavy blond locks away from his cheek. The dagger's point grazing dangerously close to Matthew's eye, as the captain spoke again.

"Aye… an English name… but my, don't you look like Admiral Bonnefoy? I would say a fair bit more lovely than that frog though. Perhaps we should find you a dress and parade you around the main deck like a wench? That sounds like a jolly good time, wouldn't you say?"

Matthew said nothing. Instead he swallowed nervously as he glared at the pirate. Oh, how he wished he had a weapon right now.

Captain Kirkland's eyes narrowed as well, as he brought the tip of the dagger to Matthew's chest.

"Now then, what is your relationship to Bonnefoy, boy? Answer now, or this dagger will find your heart!"

Matthew inhaled deeply and then in a long, shaky, drawn out breath, answered.

"Lord Admiral Bonnefoy is my Uncle and Guardian… What… What do you want with him anyway? Have you not already killed him? Isn't that why you came to our village anyway?"

The Captain lowered the dagger and laughed. It was a bitter, angry sound with a hint of amusement.

"Ha ha … Stupid boy! Why do you think we have you here? Alas, I could not get at your Uncle this time around, but now that we have you … I'm sure I'll get my chance to face him soon… and I will be sure to make it so that you can watch me spill his blood before I finish you off as well. Antonio, Gilbert! Come get this boy and put him back in his cell! I grow tired of looking at his miserable face."  
>Antonio and Gilbert had been waiting outside the doors, and as they came in, that was when Matthew made his move. Lunging forward suddenly, he head butted the Captain in the stomach. Surprised and winded by the bold move, Captain Kirkland dropped the dagger. Moving quickly, Matthew scramble to the ground and managed to pick the weapon up in his mouth, but realised that without his hands, it was useless. He looked around frantically for something to cut his bonds with but found nothing. As Matthew struggled to get to his feet, the Captain, also known as Arthur to those closest to him, had snapped out of his initial shock and regained his breath, and was issuing orders to the two other pirates to guard the door so that Matthew could not escape. Drawing his sword from it's sheath, Arthur moved towards Matthew with the intent to stop him. He could not kill him. Not yet anyway. However, as he struck out with the blade, Matthew saw it as a chance, and timing his movements perfectly, he turned just as the blade came down on him and severed the bonds that held his hands in place. Arthur cursed loudly as the ropes fell and Matthew moved the dagger from his mouth into his hand. As the Captain came at him a second time, he managed to deftly block the strike with his smaller weapon, and then made a head long charge for the door. Ploughing into Gilbert with great speed, he relieved the pirate of the cutlass he'd been holding, and burst out onto the deck. Pursued by the Captain and the two others, he suddenly found himself in a predicament. The sounds of fighting had roused the crew and now Matthew was surrounded from all sides by a bustle of sharp, pointy objects, pistols and muskets all pointed in his direction.<p>

As Arthur sauntered out on the deck, he began to laugh.

"What now, Young Master Williams? It seems we have you outnumbered, boy."

To Be Continued...

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><p>AN: Hope you liked this chapter. I will try to have the next one up as soon as possible!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Yay! Chapter 5! Unbeta'd for now! ... anyway, I think this is the longest chapter aside from the first one! ... Sealand/Peter makes an appearance in this chapter, and we get a little bit more of Alfred's POV ... the next chapter will likely be a Alfred and Francis Chapter, but this Chapter is more focused on Matthew and Arthur! Anyway, I hope you guys will like this one! ^_^

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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><p>Chapter 5.<p>

As Alfred made his way back through the village, he couldn't help but feel a bit awestruck by the amount of damage that had been done to many of the homes and shops. As he passed what was once the bakery, he saw the owner of the tiny shop sifting through the rubble. Although Alfred was determined to get over to where the British Commander and his men were staying, he couldn't help but stop and see if the baker needed any aid.

"Ah, Monsieur Alfred, unless you can turn back time, there is nothing that can be done for now." replied the Baker in a light French accent.

Alfred frowned a little as he looked at the burned remains, flipping over a piece of charred wood with his foot.

"I can't tell you how much I wish I could turn back time right now, Sir." he said sullenly, but then looked up and pasted on the best grin he could muster at the moment.

"But you know, it'll be alright. The people here are brave and resilient. I'm sure things will be ship shape in no time, right? Hahaha. Although you should see what happened to my shop! I guess that's what I get for keeping so much gun powered though, hahaha. Well, if you need any help, sir, just give me a shout. I'm just going to go have a little chat with our English visitors for now though." He tried to give the Baker a bright smile, and gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder as he started back down the road. As he continued through the village he found that most of casualties had been soldiers and some of the young and middle aged men who lived in the area. It was unfortunate that they had to die at the hands of those pirates, but at the same time Alfred couldn't help but feel relieved that at least most of the women and children had seemed to be safe, and if he know anything of the women of that village, it was that if anyone, pirate or not, tried to harm anyone in their families while they were standing near by, they would sorely regret doing so. Sometimes he even wondered why some of the women hadn't been offered positions in the navy. They could be quite fearsome. He chuckled to himself as he recalled a night when he and Matthew had gone down to the tavern, and after a few drinks and a bit of roughhousing, had been amply tossed out by the bar maid, because they were being undignified ruffians and were disturbing the peace. He remember the scolding that she gave them, especially Matthew, since he was supposed to be a proper gentleman. She didn't put up with bad behaviour at all. With that memory in his mind, Alfred suddenly felt awash with what he would liken to heartache again. He hoped that Matthew was alright. He had to be alright. There was no way that Matthew would give in to those wretched, filthy, disgusting excuses for humans beings. Alfred continued forward, until he saw the British flag that marked the Commander's camp come into sight.

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><p>With his dagger in one hand and the cutlass he'd taken off of the pirate, Gilbert, in another, Matthew stood in a defensive stance. He had his back to Captain Kirkland when the man sauntered out onto the deck after him. Eyes narrowing, Matthew tried to calculate what his next move would be. In the long run, it didn't matter what he did though, because there was know way he was going to get off the ship in one piece, and even if he did, where would he go from there. Either he'd be taken by sharks, eventually drown, or possible die from hypothermia, for even in the tropics, once you got out to sea, the water's temperature was cold. In other words, there was nothing he could do. However, that did not mean he would surrender easily. He would at least go down fighting, and if he survived that, maybe it would teach the damn pirates to show a little respect. When he heard the Captain's voice behind him he slowly glanced back over his shoulder. Arthur's one visible eye had a dangerous gleam in it as he smirked at his unfortunate captive.<p>

"What will you do now, boy?" came the pirates voice again, in a tone dripping with sarcasm. The crew shuffled a bit closer, enclosing Matthew in a wide circle. The young noble could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he felt the adrenaline start pumping through him. He glanced around quickly, and then smiled a little bit.

"Well, Captain Kirkland, sir, I suppose I could kill you, and take this ship and your crew for myself." Matthew replied. He was bluffing, trying to steal some time as he tried to figure out his options. Most of the crew were fairly large, and probably skilled in combat. He wasn't entirely sure what his chance were in taking any one of them on, not to mention that it was likely they would all jump on him. Pirates never fought fair.

Matthew's comment caused laughter to arise from Arthur and his crew. Gilbert leaned forward and was about to make a snide comment when he realized that the younger man had already disarmed him. He was quick to choke back his words. It was then Antonio who stepped forward. He sized Matthew up and then looked to his Captain and whispered something into the Englishman's ear. The pirate Captain seemed to think things over and then nodded his head. Focusing on Matthew again, Antonio gave the young noble a mysterious smile and then spoke up so that everyone could hear him.

"Our Captain has decided to take up this challenge. If this boy can defeat him in one on one combat, he will release him. However, if the challenger should fail, he will go back to the galley and remain there until the Captain decides what his fate will be."

The crew did not cheer but they did step back a pace to give the combatants more space. Matthew was quick to turn so that he was facing Arthur as the pirate stepped into the ring.

"So then, young Master, do you really believe you can beat me now. Your move before was a fluke really, but now you'll see that I am not called the Dread Captain Kirkland for nothing! What do you say boys, how would you like our young lord here to be serving up dinner for us tonight like a good little wench?" Arthur grinned as he raised his sabre and took up a battle stance. The crew cheered. The idea of having someone of nobility serve and wait upon them was definitely appealing. Matthew frowned a little. It was the second time he'd been liked to a wench, and he was none too pleased about it. Following suit, the young man faced his challenger, readying his weapons. He had to admit, he move from before had been a bold one, and he'd been luck. He was not sure what to expect now, but he was not about to step down with out at least trying. The Captain shifted , taking a step to the left, and kept a close eye on Matthew. At the same time, the younger man moved as well. Each was waiting for the other to make the first move and as Matthew moved again he had not noticed one of the crew member's stick out their foot. As a result, Matthew stumbled over it, heard someone snicker, and then everything happened quite suddenly. Having seen Matthew stumble, the Captain made the first move, lunging forward. When it came to honour, pirates never did have very much of it. Somehow, the young noble managed to counter the pirate's blade with the cutlass, and regained his balance. The two fell away from each other for a brief second before their blades clashed once more. Despite what he looked like, Matthew was impressively strong when he had to be, and managed to force Arthur back a few paces before the pirate Captain managed to dodge a strike of his blade and moved aside. The younger fighter was fast though, and with the dagger that Alfred had gifted to him in his other hand, he feigned an attack with it as he turned to face Arthur again, bringing the cutlass down toward his shoulder. However, it seemed that the Captain himself was fairly quick on his feet as well, and managed to counter the attack as well as disarm Matthew in the process by striking his hand with the flat of his sabre. As the cutlass skidding across the ship's deck, Matthew winced and shook his hand. He still had his dagger at least. Arthur moved forward, his blade coming down at Matthew in a slashing movement. Although he tried to dodge the attack again, the sabre managed to slice through the sleeve of Matthew's tunic, staining the white cotton material to a crimson colour. The young man winced as his nearly dropped his dagger. He looked up at his assailant, and that was when the Captain caught a look of fiery defiance and determination in Matthew's deep amethyst eyes. For only a brief moment, Arthur almost found himself getting lost in those very eyes. There was something alluring about them. He was quickly brought back to reality however, when the young captive dashed forward, throwing his full weight against the pirate. There was a couple of gasps and few chuckles from the crew as they watched in anticipation. Arthur felt something pressed against him just below his rib cage. He glanced down to find the young man's blade threatening to impale him. Matthew looked up at him dangerously, and spoke in a low, menacing tone.

"Now, Captain, tell me why I should gut you right here where you stand?"

Arthur chuckled as he felt heat radiating off of the young man's body. Had it not been for the fact that his life was at stake at the moment, the pirate would been rather enjoying the close proximity of another body.

"You think you have me in check, do you, boy? Think again."

With a smirk, and a few rather quick movements, their positions were reversed and Matthew found himself kneeling on the deck, winded and disarmed, looking down the barrel of the pistol. It was the same pistol Matthew had noticed tucked away in the pirate Captain's belt earlier. Glancing to his left, he spotted his dagger. It was only an arms length away. As such, he slowly tried to reach for it but felt the flat of Arthur's blade strike the back of his arm. Quickly withdrawing his hand, the young noble flinched and focused on the man standing before him. Behind him, he could hear the crew hooting and hollering their approval. Arthur looked down at Matthew with a stern expression.

"Not so fast, boy. Now, up on your feet! Don't dawdle! Up, or I'll shoot you."

Matthew did as he was bade, and carefully got to his feet. It seemed he was up the creek without a paddle. There wasn't much he could do. Even if he tried to jump the Captain again, he knew he'd be unsuccessful. The crew would be on him in a second, not to mention that the Captain seemed much more guarded this time.

"I won't deny that you fought well, boy … but it didn't do you much good anyway, now did it? Take him back down to the galley. I'll see to a proper punishment later. We have more important things to attend to now! Get back to work, all of you!"

Turning away, the Dread Captain Kirkland retreated back to his cabin as two large pirates grabbed Matthew and dragged him back down into the slave's galley. As he was roughly thrown back into his cell, he resigned himself to his fate. At least this time they hadn't tied him up. Sighing to himself, he slumped back again the damp wall and looked around for his little rat friend.

Meanwhile, up above, Antonio had picked up the dagger that lay discarded on the deck, and tucked it away in his jerkin, making sure nobody saw him in the process. Smiling to himself, he made his way to the cook's galley. As he walked through the kitchen he spotted a young boy sitting on an old shipping crate, peeling potatoes. The ship's cook paid him no heed as he made his way over to boy.

"Hola, Peter! Your brother has confined you to the cook's galley today, I see?"

The young boy, who went by the name Peter, looked up at Antonio and gave him a smart salute. He was almost the spitting image of the Captain, except that his hair was lighter in colour and not as wild looking, and his eyes were bright blue.

"Hello, sir! Yes, that jerk brother of mine said I'm nothing but a nuisance and sent me down here. He told me he was going to throw me to the fishes if I didn't get out of his way!"

The Spaniard chuckled lightly and ruffled Peter's hair. Glancing over his shoulder, he made sure that the cook was paying them no attention, and then he turned back to the young boy with a smile.

"Si, but you're brother is a busy man. You would do best to stay out of his way anyway, and you and I know very well that, blood or not, he wouldn't think twice about tossing you over board if you crossed him."

Peter looked as if he were about to burst into tears.

"That guy is just a big, stupid bully and a jerk! I hate him! I never asked to be brought on this stupid ship in the first place. I'll show him! He regret treating me so badly!"

Still smiling, Antonio patted the boy's shoulder and glance around quickly once more.

"Si, si … I know, but you didn't have much choice, did you?" he paused for a moment, reached into his jerkin and grabbed the dagger but did not yet reveal it. He then spoke in a quiet voice "I have a favour to ask of you, Peter… think of it as a top secret mission. Will you accept?"

The young boy seemed to perk up immediately and nodded his head vigorously. As he began to speak, Antonio signalled for him to keep his voice down.

"Ah! Yes! I'll do it! I can do anything. What is it?"

Antonio smiled as he pulled the dagger out from his jerkin, showing it to the boy, before grabbing a nearby rag and wrapping the weapon in it.

"We have a prisoner aboard the ship, as you might already know. I think he might be able to help us teach your big brother a lesson. We just have to make sure he has the right opportunity to do so. That being said, I need you to take this dagger and give it back to him. It was his in the first place. He'll also need some food, so when you take his food to him, take this as well… and some bandages too. Your brother injured his arm and if he doesn't heal properly, he won't be able to help us. You must do this quietly though, okay. Not a word to anyone."

Peter nodded his head again as he took the wrapped weapon from Antonio. He was shaking excitedly. He wasn't sure what was going on, but if it involved his nasty big brother being taught a lesson, then he was all for it. As Antonio stood up, he ruffled the boy's hair again and winked.

"Remember… not a word to anyone!"

With that, he excused himself and grabbed a piece of stale bread to munch on as he made his way out to the main deck again.

Matthew had lost track of time once he was thrown back into his cell. With his only means of distraction being the rat, he found himself growing bored and restless rather quickly. The blood on his arm had dried up and become crusty, and he was starting to feel the dampness and the cold sink in. It was dark and silent down in the slave's galley. He was beginning to think it might have been better if he had just let the Captain kill him. At least then he couldn't be used as bait against his uncle, and he wouldn't have to slowly waste away in the cell. He'd shifted into the far corner of his cell and curled up, hoping to catch some sleep when he heard a door creak open and light footstep coming towards him. Groaning, he opened up his eyes thinking he would see the sneering face of Gilbert, or the Captain looking in on him. At first, when he saw Peter standing on the outside of his cell, he felt his heart skip a beat, thinking that it was in fact the Captain and he'd come down to punish him or finish him off. Upon further inspection, however, he noticed that the person standing before him was not the Captain, but rather, something like a miniature version of the pirate, except much friendlier looking.

"Hello there, sir! So you're the prisoner that everyone has been talking about!" said Peter as he beamed at Matthew through the bars. The young noble just blinked, feeling suddenly confused.

"It's okay, sir! I was just sent here to bring you some things. Here's your dinner!" Smiling, the young boy slide a dirty looking old plate with some bread and potatoes on it and a small clay mug of water under the jail door. "And I was told to give you this too." he then slid the wrapped dagger and some cloth bandages under the door.

"My name is Peter, by the way. The jerk Captain is my big brother, Arthur… oh, but don't call him that, or he'll try and beat the living daylights out of you! Your name is Matthew, isn't it, sir? Well anyway, I have to get going. Enjoy your dinner! By the way, I peeled those Potatoes myself! See you later!"

As quickly as he came, he was gone again, leaving Matthew staring after him, dumbfounded. He looked at the things that had been left for him, and when his stomach growled, he didn't think twice about falling on the food and drink, even if there had been a possibility that they'd been poisoned. As he munched away at the stale bread, he unwrapped the dagger, surprised to see it. He wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but it seemed that someone on the ship thought it wise to make sure he was armed. As he cleaned his wound with the burlap and some of the water he'd been given, he puzzled over what was going on. He made sure to tuck his dagger back into his boot, because he knew someone else would be back for him at anytime. After bandaging his wound and eating the meager meal, Matthew curled back up in his corner and soon found himself drifting off to sleep. It was not a fitful sleep though, as he was haunted by images of Alfred and Francis and Arthur, and the pirate crew. Some time had passed, although he was not sure how much. He was dreaming of a particularly gruesome battle between Arthur, and strangely, Antonio, as he was standing over Alfred who was bleeding badly, when he was awoken by the sound of a voice which seemed to be calling him out of the dream world. He woke with a start only to find the Captain himself peering in at him impassively.

"Were you having a pleasant dream, pet? Shall I come back later then?" came Arthur snide, sneering voice. He was alone, but fully armed. Matthew was not about to take any more chances with the man, at least not this time around.

To Be Continued …

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><p>AN: I hope you liked this one! Stay tuned!


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